Disgustingly Human
by Agatha-Naomi
Summary: His beer is lukewarm by now, and the lies he keeps telling himself are far more bitter.
1. Bitter

Disgustingly Human

AN: Izaya is so rotten, and I love him to bits. Yay, for lovable villains!

In this underground utopia, there were many drugs, but no chemical had anything on curiosity. Izaya's curiosity regarding his beloved humans was insatiable, and it got him higher than anything ever could. No matter how many times he logged into the chat room, no matter how many times he moved the pieces of his odd little game, there was always, always, more to experience. That's why he loved them. Was it a hobby? An obsession? No. No! It was his duty, as their omnipotent observer to guide them through their daily lives.

Still… There was always more. He had seen his humans fight each other, and kill each other, but while he had excellent knowledge of their conflicts and struggles, there was more to be said about the things that made them happy. Humans don't just have trials, they have successes too. He felt like he hadn't observed enough of his humans in a more positive light.

What were the things that made humans happy? Some people wanted money, fame, and power. Others drew comfort from their morals, their religion. However, one thing that a greedy mobster and a pure hearted salary man both took pleasure in, was having someone to share their lives in. People were a very affectionate species in general. They wanted to share meals with others, spend time with their families. Make new friends, spend time with old ones. He adored his humans, and he did not need them to love him back. Furthermore, they did not need his love, because they were content in loving each other.

The thought left too bitter a taste in his mouth. He was above them, all of them. Yet he wasn't a supernatural entity like Celty or Saika. He was human through and through. Did that mean that some part of him wanted the same things that his humans wanted? Did he want someone to talk to, to eat meals with? Did he want to wake up next to someone in the mornings? Did he want someone to come home to at night?

Of course not. Izaya was happy. Why wouldn't he be? In this underground utopia, he was a sort of king. His curiosity for his humans got him high. To want something so human as companionship would be beneath him.

He was content with this life.

He was happy.

Izaya made himself dinner. He ate fatty tuna from Russia Sushi. He drank a beer. His phone vibrated every so often, and he made calls to people. He was happy. He chatted online as the night went by. When exhaustion overtook him, he climbed into bed, making sure his switchblade was still within reach. He slept lightly, waking up at every slight noise. He was happy.

He didn't need anything other than this. Observing his humans was enough. Eating, sleeping and living alone, was enough. He was happy. He was happy. He felt so disgustingly human in that moment, staring up at his ceiling, telling himself that he was content with his life.

Happy. Happy. Happy. Izaya reached for his half full (or was it half empty) can of beer. It was lukewarm by now, and the bitter taste he had grown to love was nowhere near as bitter as the lies he was feeding himself.

AN: I can't decide if this is a oneshot or not…. Yay or nay on more?


	2. Ulterior Motives

Disgustingly Human:

AN: Thanks for reviewing everybody!

If he disliked anything about his precious humans, it was their patience. If they needed something from him, they'd put up with him just long enough to get what they wanted and then distance themselves from him entirely. Shizou was an exception. He had never been able to put up with him to begin with. That in itself made the beast interesting. Still, back to his original point. Humans can put aside their morals and their dignities just to reach their goals. Lots of times all that separated his humans from their dreams was the knowledge needed to get the job done. Izaya, and his information, were simply a means to an end. He understood this well.

Humans and their dreams are what lines his wallet and pays his water bill. People will give anything to get what they desire, and not just the money he charges them. As much as some may scoff at that famous fairy tale, where Rumplestiltskin gets a baby as payment, Izaya can name a few people who would do that if the price was right. His humans could be so heartless at times.

Still, some of them are rather patient. Many have tried to reach out to Izaya. His teachers, impressed by his grades had shown concern over his troublemaking back when he was in school. His mother had used to try to lure him out of his room when she felt that he was spending too much time alone. Still in the end, patience is not endless. It's in his humans to forgive and forget, but everyone has a limit as to what they can except. It's been fascinating to observe how far you can push someone. He'll admit it. Still, once he snaps that last nerve, there's always something akin to disappointment that that particular human is done with dealing with him.

In any case, perhaps he's been thinking too much tonight? Izaya yawns and stretches. He spends quite a bit of time indoors, and he had finished his 'work' early today. Perhaps tomorrow he can venture into Shizuo's territory, and let the monster chase him. He could use the exercise. He's tempted to go get some fatty tuna, but he ate that yesterday. It's not cheap, and even with his income it feels wrong to eat it two nights in a row.

As for now, what can he do? He flips open his phone and surfs through his numbers. Maybe he could call Namie. She'd be so furious if he called her this time of night! Or maybe he could call Mikado. No. He had nothing new about the Dollars to tell the boy. Maybe he could make something up? Maybe some other time. Scrolling down his contact list another time, he found a number, and with glee, called it.

"What do you want, Izaya?"

"Hello Shinra!"

"What do you want? It's getting kind of late."

"You should be more happy that I called! Don't you get bored with only a headless woman to look at all day?" There was an awkward pause.

"Not really, no."

"You should really get out of the house more, Shinra! Let's go get drunk!"

"Well, I had a lot of patients today. Good night."

Izaya stared blankly at his phone, and although he wasn't all that surprised that the doctor had hung up on him, he wondered if the fool realized that their was no ulterior motive behind asking someone to go drinking with you.

Then again more often than not, Izaya had an ulterior motive. To everything he did.

It's a shame really, that Shinra didn't realize that now wasn't such a time. He didn't want to go out that much anyway.

Maybe he should just go to bed?


	3. Skipping Meals

Disgustingly Human

AN: I'm like to continue this a bit more. I just couldn't think of anything for awhile XD I don't pair Namie and Izaya, but they have a lot of similarities that I find interesting.

Namie was thinner than usual these days. She was as sharp tongued and bitter as always. Eagerly she pointed out his flaws and he in turn informed her of hers. She was still the best secretary he's had, in terms of getting work done efficiently and correctly.

She had lost a lot of weight. That was all that was different about her these days. Was she ill? Was she skipping meals? The picture of her brother that sat on her desk got even more wistful glances than usual, and that was really saying something. Maybe she was finally realizing that Seiji could never return her twisted and incestuous love. Was that why she was losing weight? Her clothes were looser than normal and she worked later than she typically did. Did she not want to go home? Surely she must live alone and daydream about her unrequited love and how it could tear the already rocky relationship she had with Seiji apart.

He was only wondering these things because he was curious, not because he was concerned. Namie was an intelligent person. She was detached from the world around her. She would be fine. People like her, like him, could handle stress without self destructing. Intelligent people don't waste away from stress and poor appetite. Detached and independent people don't care about going home alone. They don't skip meals because they're too tired, too anxious, to eat or prepare a meal before trying (and failing) to get some sleep.

Izaya steps out of the shower. He had been so busy lately gathering information for Shiki, and he's been far too excited to rest. It's dinner time, but he wants to go online again and check up on some business. Food can wait. He's not all that hungry anyways. People like him and Namie were too smart to unwravel from their problems. He dresses and remembers briefly that his jeans used to fit tighter. Or had he always been this slim? Of course he has. He's always been skinny. Maybe he hasn't been eating as often as usual, but that's just because of work picking up. He couldn't have lost that much weight right?

His belt is looped through a hook he's never had to hook in on before. His pants are too loose otherwise. He must have washed them incorrectly, messed up the laundry somehow. No, laundry shrinks. His pants must be the wrong size then. Izaya always weighs himself after a shower, but he doesn't so much as glance at the scale tonight.

He doesn't need to know. There's nothing to worry about. Why would there be?

He's healthy.

Content.

Fine.

He was not too stressed to eat. He was not getting so caught up in everything that he forgot to go to the grocery store.

He was Izaya Orihara. He was not wasting away from all the turmoil of his life.

That just wasn't his style.

Work is waiting, and he can feel the scale in the corner of his bathroom laughing at him as he passes it.


	4. Fireflies and Fairies

Disgustingly Human

AN: Why is angst so fun to write? I don't know, maybe I'm nuts.

His mother reminded him of a fairy. Perhaps that's where his love of folklore originated. She was indeed like a little fairy; small and dainty, with a pointed chin and small hands. She also had a curious habit of appearing suddenly, only to flash away when he turned to get a better look. A small, pretty, harmless thing, but ultimately unreachable.

He remembers catching fireflies with Mairu one late summer day when her twin was asleep. She simply couldn't catch it, try as she may, and when she finally had one in her chubby little fist, she was so angry at the thing she once saw as beautiful, that she clenches her fist so hard that its wings are damaged and the bug killed.

His mom came home late again that night, late from her work as always. As she tiredly shrugs off her coat and asks him how school was, he gives a look no child ought to give his mother and storms off. He heads to his own room but he hears whimpers and sniffles from the twins room and finds himself on autopilot.

"I shouldn't have squished Mr. Bug. But I couldn't catch him, so it made me so mad. I just wanted to hold it, but I really don't want him anymore."

Izaya crawls into bed with Mairu, and even though her nose is running from crying, he revels in her comfort. When his mom comes to say good night he forces himself to answer, but he can feel something bitter hardening in his chest. He dreams that night of the surprised look on his mother's face, and of crushed bugs in tiny little hands.


	5. White Lies

Disgustingly Human

AN: So, this goes with the last one, because it's still about his childhood. Yay angst?

When his mother had told him that she was going on a year long business trip to America, he didn't really care. He had school and friends (well school) and he didn't really give a damn if he couldn't see his mother for a year or so. She didn't have time for him anyways. He was ten for crying out loud! He didn't need his mom, or his dad for that matter. His mother was gone for a year as promised, and though she send a postcard or two in that time, he never read them. His dad would call her every Tuesday to talk to her, but when he asked Izaya if he wanted to talk to his mom he always said no. Except for the one time he said yes.

"You're going to be a big brother Izaya, By the time mommy gets home. Won't that be nice?"

"Yes."

No. He had spent ten years trying to get attention and trying had gotten him nowhere. Siblings would just complicate things further! His mom was a career woman. So was his dad. They fed him and clothed him and yet he couldn't bring himself to feel anything for them but anger. Maybe that's life though. Maybe parents only have to take care of their kids by feeding them and clothing them. He isn't being abused, just ignored. His mom was in America to settle a contract. Maybe he should think of them as business partners instead of as parents. That way they only do what they're obligated by law to do, and he only has to move out when he's no longer a minor. That way there will be no further disappointments. It was a brilliant plan.

Izaya puts his head in his pillow and doesn't cry. Boys don't cry. Ten is too old to cry. Ten is too old to be this attached to parents who don't give a damn about him. Damn haha. He giggles, feeling slightly naughty for swearing and wipes his face.

It's strange how your cheeks get wet when you haven't been crying.

As it turns out the baby is babies, and when his mom finally comes back into town, she kisses him, says she missed him, and announces that she has a meeting in an hour, and could he please watch the twins just for awhile?

"Can't dad do it?"

"No! He's at work still. Be a dear, Izaya okay? Don't you want to meet your sisters? You know, mommy always wanted girls."

"No. Tell dad to leave his secretary and to come take care of them."

His mother colors.

"What are you talking about baby? Your father and Isis…. I mean your father and his secretary have a work relationship! Mommy and daddy had Mairu and Kururi! We love each other very much! Please just a while? You're getting to be such a big boy, you can handle it."

"How do I change a diaper? Or feed them?"

"I have to run, or I'll be late. Bye baby!"

There she is again, flying away in a puff of fairy dust and a click of sensible shoes.

He goes to the cribs and stares down at the little girls that are supposedly his siblings. They have mom's chin and his mouth, but it doesn't feel real. They are creatures that impose upon his already lackluster home life. And yet he doesn't feel hate for them. He just feels distance, and slight pity. When they wake up and start screaming, he simply surveys them like they're some semi interesting television program.

He googles how to change a diaper on his dad's laptop, and goes back to pick up the one that's screaming the loudest.

"I wonder who changed my diapers. Do you know?"

The baby keeps crying.

"What about you?" He asks its twin. " Do you think mom and dad took care of me ever? I feel like I've always taken care of myself. Although maybe before dad's secretary and mom's job, maybe they were in love, neh?"

They are both wailing louder now, so loud that it hurts his ears.

"I feel nothing for you. Is that bad? You don't feel like my siblings at all. I suppose that might be how mom and dad felt about me. That I was simply crying and they didn't know me at all yet."

He pauses because his chest is suddenly tight and painful.

"We'll be like business partners. I'll dress you and feed you, but trust me in this house, you'll figure out how to do those things yourself pretty fast. I'll do my best."

They still cry. He changes them and feeds them and still they don't sleep. He ends up putting them in their beds and sitting leaning against the wall between the cribs. His head tilted back and his eyes closed, he feels sorry for the twins, for himself. He is angry at his parents and the world, and above all he feels pain at being ignored and cast aside.

Oddly enough there is a silent glee that he isn't stuck here anymore by himself.

He grabs the shrieking babies and sits them in his arms.

"I know you want your mother. That feeling eventually passes."

Looking back that's the only kind lie he's ever told, and his audience was too young to understand him.


End file.
